Imagine your son or daughter sleeping on a park bench in the heart of downtown Seattle. Imagine your brother, sister, aunt or uncle sitting on a dirty street corner being spit on and having profanities shouted at them by passerby’s. Imagine your grandparents sitting in the rain for hours with nothing to cover them but a soggy cardboard box and a dirty old sweater that they found in a nearby dumpster….
I’ve been in Seattle for three days. In three days I’ve seen real people with real problems. Cardboard signs that say “Homeless” “Disabled” “Hungry” and “Alone”. People begging for someone to just look at them; to just smile or acknowledge their presence.
How quick we are to pass judgement on these people. They’re dirty, they smell, they’re missing teeth, “they must be on drugs” or “they only want my money for beer”. But when you really stop and think about the man that you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with, you realize that he is someone’s son, maybe brother…he has a story. Maybe all he needs is someone to extend a simple act of kindness to remind him that he is not exempt from love.
*Images of Seattle homeless from a shared source